


my name would taste sweeter on someone else's lips

by LadyVictory



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:35:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4536459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVictory/pseuds/LadyVictory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If you want, you could call me Lola, sometimes…”</p><p>Danny turns back, raising an eyebrow, and Perry blushes but shrugs.</p><p>“Lafontaine hasn’t called me that since we were like, 12, and I just… I miss hearing someone other than my parents say my name.”</p><p>The tall girl nods, pulling her hand away gently and smiling.</p><p>“It suits you,” Danny admits, though she is not ready to say the name yet. It would feel in her mouth too much like something both of them want from someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my name would taste sweeter on someone else's lips

**Author's Note:**

> AN 1: Completely unbeat'd. Sorry.  
> AN 2: I have zero claim to the Summers, Zetas, Ginger Squad, tiny journalism majors, brooding 3 century old philosophy majors...  
> AN 3: I continue to be terrible at summaries.

“Your adolescent ennui is almost as cliché as your all black wearing creature of the night shtick,” Laura snips hauntily, turning her back on her former lover.

The vampire has once again made a snarky comment about the futility of the debate, and once again, the small human has taken offense.

“You wound me, bite sized,” Carmilla drawls from her position on the couch.

Danny rolls her eyes as she watches the two other girls exchange barely concealed yearning looks and over-the-top verbal barbs.

It wouldn’t be so bad if her own heart didn’t still ache at every pining look the freshman sends across the tape barrier instead of at _her_.

As much as she hates it, though, Danny can’t help but empathize with the vampire. Not just because of the whole knowing what it’s like to be on the outs with Laura Hollis thing, but because a part of her thinks that Carmilla is right. Not just about the debate, but about the situation as a whole. So far all their meddling has done is traded one big bad for another.

Danny would never say so, of course, would rather die then choose the snarky undead girl’s side, but still... Every time she winces at sharp words, an itty bitty part of her does it for Carmilla too.

“Bite me!” Laura growls, all but sticking out her tongue, and it is just the tiniest bit adorable. Enough so that when Carmilla inevitably raises an eyebrow in suggestion, Danny has to bite back a smirk.

“On second thought, keep your mouth away from me. God knows where it’s been.”

“I’m sure you’d love to know, cupcake.”

Danny's feelings are confusing and annoying, half jealousy and half wanting them to just make up already, and after a few more seconds of listening to the two exchange un-pleasantries, she makes her excuses and retreats into the kitchen.

Perry stands near the stove, apron tied around her waist, flour streaked across one cheek, once again cornered by Baron Vordenberg. Her eyes are wide, panicked, but she is far too polite to tell the wirey man to go away.

“Really, Fraulein Perry, these biscuits are exquisite. What did you call them again?” the old codger croons.

“Double chocolate chip. Really, they’re nothing. Just, er, something to do while I… wait.”

Perry's hands flutter like small, delicate birds, and Danny smiles at her over the Baron's shoulder, reassuring.

Does she want the taller girl to interfere? 

Perry shrugs, exasperated but not wanting to be rude.

Vordenberg takes a bite of his cookie, moaning in delight and dropping crumbs down his shirt.

“Truly glorious, dear girl, truly. Reminds me of a woman I used to know.”

Danny stifles a chuckle; he is harmless, but what a dirty old man.

Perry cringes minutely, and Danny takes it as her signal to act.

Cracking her neck once, the tall redhead approaches the man from behind.

“Baron Vordenberg?”

“Hmm?” Vordenberg hums, turning with a start to face her, expression guilty around the edges.

“I think Laura wanted to speak to you.”

“Oh, yes?”

“Yeah. Something about your experiences in the Prussian court…”

The smallest part of the Summer Society sister is amused at the prospect of the journalism major being subjected to more of this man’s prattle. If Danny has to suffer through those board meetings, Laura can handle another dose of Vordenberg.

“Why, of course! Good to know that my wisdom is not wasted on the young.”

Danny has to bite her cheek to keep from snorting at him.

The Baron turns to Perry.

“Until next time, sweet girl.” He moves as if to take Perry’s hand for another soggy kiss, but Danny is suddenly there, steering him away and through the door.

When the tall girl turns back to her companion, Perry’s gratitude shines bright from her clear green eyes, making Danny blush lightly and shift uncomfortably.

Through the doorway, Vordernberg’s voice – a muffle droning – filters through, along with Laura’s groans of frustration and Carmilla’s sarcasm, not loud enough to make out the words but clear none-the-less. Upstairs, Lafontaine clomps around in what was once a bedroom but has since been repurposed into their lab, and JP murmurs.

It hits her all at once, the exhaustion. The sounds of the people in the house swirl around, filling the space in Danny’s head until it is too much. She closes her eyes and clenches her jaw.

She hears Perry move forward, and when she opens her eyes again, the shorter girl is there, plate held out – an offering of temporary solace in sugar. They share a sad smile.

“Cookie?”

Normally Danny would say no, a firm believer in leafy green things and fruits over enriched flour and saccharine. But there is something almost desperate in the curly haired girl’s eyes, and Danny would bet that it is probably mirrored in her own. Without a word, the taller girl reaches out and takes one of the still warm confections, and Perry smiles wanly as she puts down the plate.

The Summer sister bites into the cookie and has to fight back a moan of pleasure – the Baron is right, the cookies are amazing – and her eyelids flutter. This is the first time she has ever been invited to partake of Perry’s nervous dessert fallout, and she has definitely been missing out.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but, if your cooking is even half as good as your baking, I’m going to have to marry you on the spot.”

This is not at all what the young huntress means to say, and after realizing what words have come out of her mouth, thick with double chocolate chip goodness, Danny wishes that the floor would open up and swallow her whole. She quickly takes it back though, because this is Silas, and it would probably happen if she wills it too hard.

She blames her careless comments on her usual state of melancholy loneliness being lifted briefly through their shared misery at the situations they find themselves in, and the honest love and care Lola Perry works into her baked goods.

Perry huffs a little. “And what, exactly, is the wrong way to take such a charming proposal?” she asks. Her posture is still stiff with her natural reserve, but her voice lilts – almost teasing – and there is a soft smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

This is not what Danny expected, either.

“I try not to make assumptions anymore,” Danny admits. She meant for it to come out light and airy, but instead it is just this side of bitter.

Perry’s eyes scrunch in a frown – cute, Danny’s mind supplies, much to her inner chagrin – and the taller girl regrets her moment of honest emotion.

She keeps forgetting that none of these people are her friends, not anymore at least. While Danny is expected, and willing, to take up arms for them, she is not one of them anymore. She is duty bound – and in the case of Laura, affection bound – to protect, but they owe her nothing. She is separate, alone, always had been really.

Danny opens her mouth to apologize. “Perry, I-”

“No, it’s okay,” the smaller girl interrupts, coming forward and laying a gentle hand on Danny’s forearm. “Believe me, I understand.”

Danny’s mouth goes dry and her eyes slide closed, her arm tingling where Perry’s warm palm and gentle fingers cradle her. It has been so long since someone has touched Danny on purpose, wanting nothing more than to connect or comfort, that it momentarily takes her breath away.

For a few seconds, she feels light, almost like a real person – as if a weight she hadn’t been aware of carrying is lifted by this act of simple kindness. She hates herself for her weakness, and for the gratitude that fills the empty spaces inside.

“I-I came here because of Lafontaine. Did you know that?”

It is a complete non-sequitur, but Danny only shrugs and shakes her head, opening her eyes and accepting it because Perry hasn’t removed her hand, and Danny is too weak to move away.

Just a few more moments and she will have the strength to bear her segregate role as guardian/champion/ambassador again. Just… just a couple more seconds of human contact. That’s all Danny needs. Then she can take the weight back.

She looks at Perry, urging her with her eyes to continue.

“Su-Lafontaine, they got in, early admission. I… the thought of them…” Perry pauses, swallowing hard. “The thought of them going to school so far away, being that far apart… It was too much.”

Perry blinks rapidly, lost in the memory of what could have been, and before Danny can stop herself, she is reaching out with her free hand and resting it on the curly haired girl’s shoulder. Instead of tensing or sagging, Perry seems to draw strength from the contact.

“I came here so that we wouldn’t be separated, and because I thought – because I assumed things, but…” Perry stops again, lips trembling. “But now, we live in the same house and we don’t speak without fighting, or spend time; we barely look at each other.”

“Oh, Perry…” Danny murmurs, heart breaking for the other girl a little.

One of the advantages of not letting anyone get close to you was that no one could hurt you like this; no one could make you need them, inside your heart, and then rip it all away. Danny had forgotten this last semester – forgotten herself and her rules – and had been cruelly reminded.

But Perry, she is kind, and steady, and really does not deserve this, and Danny regrets it is a lesson she learned.

“No, I, it-it’s okay, really,” the shorter girl insists, huffing a bit and shaking her head at herself. “You made it a joke, but I, I see you Danny Lawrence. I know how much what is happening, how much it hurts – or at least how confusing and isolating it is. I get it. I have my baking, and my cleaning to cope.”

Danny can’t help but grin. “And I have my bow, and my honorary Zeta trident.”

The Summer huntress moves as if to pull back, but apparently Perry has other ideas. The shorter girl moves closer, arms closing around Danny’s waist in a surprisingly warm and comfortable hug. She definitely would not have pegged Lola Perry for a hugger.

After a moment, she returns the gesture, unable to stop the small sigh of relief. Perry echos it, and it hits Danny that maybe she isn’t the only one missing this, this contact with another person.

She assumed that the group still shared at least some of that friendly intimacy – baring Carmilla of course – that seemed innate to their circle last semester. Maybe she should be paying closer attention – any attention – to the videos Laura still posts.

“Laf is a genius,” Danny acknowledges quietly. “But the way they ignore you – the way you’re taken for granted – makes me want to shake some sense into them.”

Perry snorts and mutters, ‘please don’t,’ and Danny nods.

“Laura is a good person. Brave and full of conviction. But, she, she doesn’t deserve your… devotion. Not the way you mean it with her, anyway, and certainly not how she treated, uh, it.”

Danny pulls back until only their hands remain connected, not at all offended, mouth quirked in a rueful smile.

“No, she really doesn’t. Can’t choose who you’re, er, devoted to though, can you?”

“No,” Perry agrees, eyebrow raised. “You really can’t.”

They stand there for long moments, knowing smiles on their faces, and Danny’s chest fills with a rolling rush of intense affection.

She could see the possibility of being devoted to Lola Perry in another life, one without tiny, hot cocoa obsessed journalism majors and red haired mad scientists to take up those spaces in their chests.The feelings make her nostalgic for things that will never be, and she reaches up to cup the smaller girl’s cheek.

They are kissing before Danny fully makes the decision. Perry’s mouth is soft and full against her own, and she can’t help but tangle her fingers in waves of curly hair. Perry’s sweet and tangy, like she sampled the batter before baking the cookies, and it makes Danny’s heart ache a little.

In the other room, Laura groans loudly and lets out a plaintive, ‘Danny…’

The redheads look at each other and snicker a little at how pathetic their de facto leader sounds after only a few minutes with the Baron. Their moment is broken, but it is comfortable between them.

“I’m glad you assumptions brought you here,” Danny says, smiling and gently squeezing the hands in hers.

“I’m glad your loyalty kept you with us,” Perry replies, her own smile a little sad.

Another, ‘Daaaannnnnny,’ filters in from the other room.

With an amused sigh, Danny lets go of the other girl’s hands and turns to leave. Perry’s fingers on her wrist give her pause.

“Hmm?”

“If you want, you could call me Lola, sometimes…”

Danny turns back, raising an eyebrow, and Perry blushes but shrugs.

“Lafontaine hasn’t called me that since we were like, 12, and I just… I miss hearing someone other than my parents say my name.”

The tall girl nods, pulling her hand away gently and smiling.

“It suits you,” Danny admits, though she is not ready to say the name yet. It would feel in her mouth too much like something both of them want from someone else.

“Pleeease,” Laura whines, and Danny straightens her shoulders and moves to the door.

She takes a steadying breath, making herself ready to endure careless words and even more careless touches, to bear insults, and to watch longing looks not directed at her.

Looking over her shoulder as she opens the door, she grins, unable to help herself.

“I’m not kidding about the cooking, though.”

And then she pushes through the door, before the other girl can answer.

Walking into the common room, Danny wishes they could have lived in that moment forever, where it was just the two of them, connecting, unencumbered by assumptions or duty or devotion, or other words that are too scary to say.

Quickly though, she takes it back, because this is Silas, after all, and if she isn’t careful…


End file.
